Floored
by Heartspin
Summary: This is a remake of an old story I had written on my old account years ago. Harry leaves the world he knows behind to try and obtain happiness. Yet, it comes in a form far different then what he expected. Dark times come once again, in a form Harry is all too familiar with. With such an old tired soul, is Harry able to face another war?
1. Chapter 1

Floored

Chapter one

Eternal Suffering

"No Harry! Don't!" Hermione's teary voice echoed in his head, causing an ache to build up behind his eyes and migrate to his brow. Or perhaps that was due to the lack of blood," Please! You're like the brother I never had… Harry . . . please."

He was in the Shrieking Shack, and he was cold. The dust that always lay too thick everywhere didn't seem to bother him at the moment. Even though he rest with his face smothered in several inches of dust, he didn't attempt to move. The shadows around him seemed welcoming, giving everything a shade of grey as the only source of light was the full moon outside.

A lone wolf howled in the distance, yet he didn't care. His breath came out smoothly and evenly, yet seemed to be slowing. It was a peace that he clung to.

The only disturbance in this peace he had given himself was a muffled yell and clanking footsteps.

"Harry!"It was Hermione. He felt shame rise up in his chest, already knowing he wouldn't have to explain. Silently he begged for her not to find him, for her to turn away from the door. At her gasp he knew she had caught sight of him, and disgust rose within him to meld with the shame.

"Oh Harry," he felt slightly boney hands grip him and lift him up. He stared into chestnut brown eyes that looked down at him with sadness. The same eyes he had seen for years, since he had become a student at Hogwarts, yet they looked down at him from an old face, one that was thin and worn," oh Harry," she repeated, and a tear fell from one eye onto his cheek.

He knew why she cried, and that night he cried too. Tears always where hard to come to him, yet he found it so easy at that moment. His wounds slowly were healed by his friend and, with his regaining conciseness and strength, the tears turned into to full sobs that wrecked his body. Death would not meet him that day, not as it had Ron.

And it had been that day, laying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, still and empty while Hermione had collapsed next to him exhausted, he came to the conclusion. Or perhaps he had always known, but that day he was willing to accept it. He was cursed. He was cursed to watch every one of his friends perish and their children, and perhaps even their children's children. Though, selfishly he thought, it was not them he cried for. For once Harry allowed himself to greedily release tears for himself, his own selfish wish to finally find rest and eternal peace.

Harry Potter, the boy who lived, and the boy who died and had come back, would have exactly what Voldemort had craved for so many years.

Immortality.

The echo from so long ago reached his ears and he shuddered to think the voice right," you're a fool Harry Potter," Voldemort had hissed, after the boy had expressed that Voldemort didn't know love, have family or friends, and for that he was cursed. Had he been a fool? He was beginning to wonder if Tom had been correct, that he was a fool and now a cursed fool to live out the rest of his life alone.

While watching the slivers of moonlight shine through the cracks of wood, dust lazily coming down adding to what was already gathered on the floor, he thought of how things had gotten to where they were now. It had been over 80 years since the fall of the dark lord, and slowly he had secluded himself and shut himself in his home hidden in the wild when it became evident to not only himself but the rest of the world that he had escaped the hand of age and time itself. Of course there were those close to him that still knew of him home, Hermione and Ron of course, along with Draco, Luna, Nevill, Seamus, Anthony, Ginny, George, Angelina, Bill, and Fleur and all their children had been the ones that he had seen fit to know of his secret home when he had built it at the age of 35. Of those few, Fluer, Nevill, and Hermione still lived, as did the groups children (though he rarely saw any of the young adults now and he didn't blame them as for they had their own lives to live.) This small group of friends had slowly became his whole life, and when news of Ron's death had reached him earlier that day by a sobbing Fleur he had went to Hogwarts to see for himself, denial that the mischievous redhead, who now had thin wispy silver curls and a face riddled with lines of happiness, who had always been quick to jump to the defense of his friends and had grown into a confident young man and looked up to by many was dead.

He had apperiated to Hogsmeade, and then had made his way quickly to the school which held so many memories both dear and filled with sorrow. Hermione had been there, sobbing as their dear friend, her husband, at the age of 101 was being carried out on a gurney, white sheet covering his face. Harry had uncovered the other to see that a slight smile had been settled on his lips.

It was only later he had found out that the fool had been flying and must have had a heart attack while in midair. Harry and Hermione both understood, even though they cursed him all the same. He had lived over a hundred years, and still wished for that joy and freedom flight brought to many, his heart still young trapped in his elderly body. He had died happy.

Harry sighed as sleep began to overtake him, and his heart ached as he jealously thought that if only he could obtain the same peace and happiness his friend was so lucky to receive.

At the steadying of his breath, Hermione sat up from where she had pretended to sleep. She inspected the young face next to her. Harry still wore his hair short, though it was slightly longer than when they had been in school together, falling in messy locks around his chin. It worked well with his thin pixy face, and helped shape it and bring out those unearthly green eyes. His skin had become pale over the years losing the tan it once held, and stubble grew barely on his chin the other never one able to grow much facial hair. He was thin and short as he had always been, the obvious consequences from his abusive relatives she thought bitterly thinking about how he had had no childhood. At least, she thought, she had been granted the love of her family and had lived worry free up until war had called to her to make a stand as a teenager.

Thoughts going back to the present, for they strayed far too often in her old age, she looked again to the man who was trapped in the body of a boy.

That day had been tiring and far too eventful for her as the loss of her husband had been sudden and unexpected, though, sadly she thought, the attempted suicide from Harry had not been. And selfishly, she couldn't allow him his peace. She couldn't allow him to kill himself, though she wasn't completely sure he could. She had seen over the years the boy outlive many things, even death itself, and she wondered if anyone could bring him closure.

Which brought her to her thoughts now. She needed to find a place for the man she considered a brother. Harry, who was too kind hearted even when the worst happened to him, who cared so much for others, who needed and craved love even if he did not wish to see it, who had been denied so much in life, needed to be with others such as himself.

This was not the first time she had thought this. She had spoken of this to the others on several occasions, but now she saw they would have to pick up their efforts. Harry was ready to leave this world, and she needed to find him a direction, an answer to his suffering before she too passed on to whatever lay beyond life and he continued to live alone in pain. She feared what he could possibly turn into if that ever happened.

Hardening her features she conjured a blanket and covered him lovingly. She needed to speak to Fleur, the girl whom had an answer she hoped. Placing a kiss on his brow, the brunet made her way out of the shrieking shack, determined to set things right.

Authors note:

PHEW! There we go. Short, I know, but I just wanted to get this out there. This is, yes, a remake of my story Floored, which was on my old profile which I have been unable to access (my email was hacked that was to that account). I am back on frequently writing, now used to life as a mother, and hope to update frequently. If you have read my old version of Floored, I am sure you will notice the drastic change in the way I tell the story. My sights of how this story will go have not changed, just how they will play out. =)

Please tell me what you think of my story! I have been, currently, on a big LegolasxHarry craze, but my other stories I am writing Harry is an elf. This is not so in this story, or at least not completely. I am considering he slowly shift from human to elf, but at the moment he is just a wizard .

Also there is something else I am unsure about. I have the general idea of how this story is going to play out, and see a few different ways it could end up going. My question to **YOU** is:

When shall this take place? Pre LOTR? Post LOTR? During? If before should it be Pre, during, or after the Hobbit? I could spin this any way. My two cents here is, if it was pre the hobbit, then Harry could have a quick snippet in the hobbit, a good time for a one-shot, and join the fellowship in LOTR, a good chance for a complete sequel.

Just lemme know what you think, about how it has started out thus far, and what you would like to see.

THANK YOU!


	2. Chapter 2

**Floored**

**Chapter 2**

Hermione had insured that someone was with Harry at all times. Harry glared at her across from the table as she pointedly ignored him, reminding him to take another bite of his breakfast before doing the same herself. It had been over a month after Ron's death and Hermione was with Harry more often than not, leaving him no peace of mind. He had become used to her visits before the death of his best friend but now it was suffocating. He couldn't have peace with death, or in loneliness and it drove him mad. At her blank statement that she had made sure that he was never alone only soured his mood and spoiled his appetite.

Now she sat across from him eating as if nothing had happened. She had become more devious with old age, he thought grimly, looking to the woman. She was slightly hunched with age now, her brunet hair now long down her back in tight braids silver shining through the strands. She wore a grey cloak, with golden designs along the hems. She hadn't taken any care to her appearance other than her hair it seemed, though she was still as beautiful as ever he thought.

"What the hell Hermione! He snarled," I 'am' a damn grown man, and damn if you are going to treat me as anything but," he had slammed his fist to the wood of the table-though it did little to rattle the breakfast as for the table had been built of a large sturdy oak branch that attached to the wall.

She rolled her eyes, pushing some silvering brunet hair from them as she said in an almost bored voice," Harry I 'know' you are a fully grown man. And you are also very lonely."

"Happily so," he snapped back

She snorted, acting more like Ron for a moment-the red head had rubbed off on her fairly well- and shook her head," Oh yes I can just see you prancing!"

"I would be if you left," he glared past the orange juice that was put in front of his face.

"Maybe I would leave if you ate more. Here the Brussels sprouts are cooked just right," As if to prove a point she bit one neatly off her fork before stabbing another one and shoving it his face to replace the orange juice he had angrily shoved aside.

He turned his head stubbornly, "no."

"Harry," her voice held warning.

"I'm not a child!"

She raised an eye brow," and you are acting so mature at the moment."

"Not like you are giving much choice to act otherwise!"

"I wouldn't have to feed you if you would just eat!"

He growled," I will eat when I am hungry, and oddly enough I am hungrier when my appetite isn't spoiled by unwanted company!"

"Oh come off it Harry, its one bite then I am done!"

"I will not bend to your will woman!" he crossed his arms glaring and he saw a snarl appear on her face which made him cheer inwardly. Using his gender over hers was always to rile her up.

"Don't make me put you in a home," she warned darkly.

Snorting he leaned back, arms still crossed," like they would ever accept me."

"they would and I would make sure of it! I am sure," her expression became sly, and Harry knew that the years of now being friends with Draco she had picked up some tricks from him also," that quite a few of the nurses would be more than happy to have you tied down to feed you. . . Maybe even change your diaper."

"You wouldn't," he hated the fact that at her smile his face set into a horrified look, imagining some of his most endearing fans 'caring' for him.

"Hermione-"

"Harry James Potter you take the damn bite right now! Do not tempt me!"

At seeing a fire lit in her brown eyes, and her wand suddenly in her hand Harry practically ate the fork along with his morsel. If he had learned one thing over his years of life, women were not to be crossed. And of all the women in the world, Hermione Weasley was the most dangerous of all.

She sat back, a look of triumph on her face as she watched him darkly chew and swallow the bite and he glared at her from across the table.

"There. Now will you leave? "He sighed, tired as the argument, which had been somewhat playful but with something heavy behind it leaving him feel worn raw.

Hermione's gaze softened and she stood quietly nodding heading to the door.

"I'll be back this evening," at his look of protest she looked away, "please Harry. If not for you then . . . me. You're not the only one to have lost someone," she gave him a broken look and he deflated. When had she become so run down looking? When had the shadows begun to creep into her face, her eyes seeming hollow?

She looked up to the sky from out the door she opened, and spoke softly," I always had Ron there. He was always the loud one. Never a quiet moment. It doesn't help even if I have the radio or TV blasting. Because he is not there for me to yell at to turn it down. The silence is deafening" She was shaking and Harry stood slowly, suddenly all too aware of his friends frailty," my bed is cold. I hug his pillow, I sleep with his things. I still make breakfast for two, and forget he isn't there to have a cuppa tea with. I can't imagine anymore of life without him. I can still smell him," she cut off with half a sob half a laugh as she leaned against the door covering her eyes.

Harry took hold of Hermione and allowed the old woman to sob onto his shoulder, noticing all too painfully that she seemed bonier, and her skin more paper thin. How could he have overlooked this? Was he such a terrible self-centered person that he hadn't noticed his best friends health deteriorate so quickly?

"I can see him in the kids," her sobs were racking her body as she shivered against him," that damn red hair too. I can't stop thinking of him. I don't want him gone. I want to sleep forever, and feel him there with me."

She was leaving him too. He never had been good with words, he knew but he felt he had to say something.

"Don't worry," he murmured down to her ear once her sobs had slowed," For one day you will." It was probably not the best thing to say was it, he thought bitterly kicking himself.

At that she completely stopped her cries and slowly pulled away from him. He expected her to scold him for his direct and tactless words, but she only looked up at him with something in her eyes. He recognized that look. She was putting something together, or planning something. A sudden fear that she may take her life overtook him and he felt the reason to live suddenly intensify with new vigor, not wishing to be left alone so soon," though not yet." He rushed the words and at her quipped brow he felt his cheeks heat up.

Clearing her throat, she sniffed and murmured," I worry about you Harry."

There it was. Her focusing on him again. He frowned and put his gaze sideways but Hermione ignored his all too familiar discomfort at being given direct attention, such raw affection his way. He had become closed off to it, for the most part, over the years and it was well known to others that he didn't like their affections presented so outright.

"I will join Ron someday Harry," She confirmed with him and he felt unease settle on him creating a bitter taste in his mouth. The brussels sprout wasn't settling with him well suddenly," Someday I will die. I think we all wonder what will happen with you though." He became stiff at her brusqueness and so she continued hurriedly," Harry. What is waiting for you in this world once I leave?"

He gaped at her and she continued," Harry. Do you wish to leave this world? Or at least perhaps wish to leave this world if there was but a chance you could be with those that are immortal?"

Harry blinked down at her, noticing how much he now stood over the elderly witch. It had been, at one point in time, the other way around.

"I never," he blinked. It would be a lie if he said he had never thought about it. Often times he had dreamt of going somewhere where others did not age, such as him. In his dreams were grey eyes, and a grand wood. But those had been dreams.

"Not seriously," he finished. He looked outside to see the roll of clouds in the distance. It was the beginning of June, which meant more rain," I love the wizarding world. I love the magic of everything around me. I love the adventure." Though it had been long sense the adventures end, and he was restless. Had she seen this? And even though the magic of the wizarding world really did cling to him, he couldn't fill that emptiness that was created by being un-aging, seemingly immortal.

"What if we found a way to send you to a world that people did live long lives," he blinked down at her as if she had just grown a second head," I mean it Harry. I am not going to always be here," she shifted and looked to the skies. It was as if the coming grey clouds brought equally dark thoughts to her mind.

"I would go," he whispered," I suppose I would." He frowned, thinking how she and Ron wouldn't be there. He thought of everyone who had died over the years, from the people he disliked but still felt something for their passing such as his Aunt and Uncle and his cousin Dudley, to people he loved so dearly that it hurt to breath sometimes to think about their loss such as Sirius, McGonagall, and Ron. Moving to an immortal land would not solve this, he thought, but it would stop the list from growing. The inner argument raged on, and Hermione watched him closely.

"Harry," she cut through his inner battle and he looked up to her," I plead for you to at least try."

Frowning he looked to her suspiciously," you have found a place?"

Shifting, for she knew how much he loathed people planning things for him without his say, she looked at him strait in the eye," Harry. I love you like a brother. And I wish you to find true happiness," when he went to argue she cut in sharply," yes you were happy with us. With me and Ron. With Luna, Draco, the Weasleys, with everyone," her eyes were glassy thinking about people he knew they both wanted to sit with once more, to talk and laugh with. To return to those happy school days, back before Voldemort became a truly dark burden on them, or to happier times years later after the deep wound of the dark lord was finally scabbed over.

"But you never found a happiness of your own. For just you," at his look she said," perhaps a lover? A family? You never were given that. Please just, agree with me you will try." At his slow nod her face broke into a smile and she enveloped him in a hug," Harry. Thank you. I know this is selfish of me, but I can't help it."

She smiled up at the other and he tried to return it but found it impossible. His heart ached too much, causing his stomach to turn.

Spinning around she made her way out the front, calling over her shoulder," I'll still be back." Before crossing his warding spells that kept others from appeariating, and was gone with a pop.

Standing there for another moment he could only end with shaking his head," that women," he murmured wishing suddenly for her to be there to jest at. Well might as well enjoy the silence, he thought, he could poke fun at her plenty when she returned.

"I think it is ready Hermione, "Fleur warbled from her wheelchair giving a slight cough in the process. The French accent had not left her completely, though she had been able to pronounce things a lot more English like over the years.

Hermione looked over to the once great beauty who wheezed, blind and unable to walk. She held out a bony pale hand with age spots out to the cauldron, her magic sensing the boiling potion.

They had been working on the potion all week and were hoping that this time it was a success. Last time they had done something wrong, Hermione suspected it was from under cooking, and nothing had happened.

Taking out the tomb she opened it to a page that had a piece of loose paper, a translation of the spell she was supposed to say. The French instructions having been too much of a mouthful for her to say, and Fleur's magic too weak to pull off.

Hand held up over the cauldron she began lowly until her voice rose, her magic vibrating through the room.

"Open the portal to the world parallel to our own. The middle land to the land on high, in the center of our Earth. Let the portal open!"

She held her breath as her last word echoed and it seemed nothing would happen. The room became silent after the ring of her last words stretched on the only sound now the wheezing from Fleur and the bubbling of the cauldron, and she begun to tear up, cursing another failure. What had they done wrong?

Suddenly the bubbling intensified and she jumped back as the cauldron began to wobble until foam overtook it, foam creped out onto the floor and created a golden archway. From it a tall figure fell through and crashed in front of her before immediately jumping up, yelling something in another language.

But, Hermione barely notice. She had done it! She had opened the gate to a 'Middle Earth' where there lived immortal beings that had long since left earth. Now she would be able to help Harry.

A dagger was pointed her way and she raised a brow at it.

As soon as she was able to communicate with their new friend, she frowning as he bubbled about in his own language. This was going to take a while.

Authors note: Ok so I know I cut it off early, but any more writing and I would have to solidify the timeline in which Harry is thrown in. The original Floored was post LOTR, which I am strongly considering. But many of you would like to see pre LOTR, which I find intriguing too. Thank you for the feedback and please be patient as I continue to mull it over.

I'll give ya all there guesses as to whom she pulled though ;P And also, since I am sure I will get bashed for this, I made them act silly on purpose. I find too many people like to write the elderly as this always philosophical, always hurting, always whining peoples. From what I have seen at least, there are some who keep an attitude and many still have a sense of humor. So I shaped them how I believe they would mold.

Also. . . .I know that spell sucked. But bear with me, lol.

So what do you think so far. Please please please review, lemme know! I will be deciding next chapter for sure timeline, and I am beginning to lean post LOTR, but still would like input. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**Floored**

**Chapter 3**

The man who had come through the door was absolutely stunning to say the least, the fact that he was transparent like a ghost or projection not taking away from that. He wore his golden hair long, with a crown made of flowers that wove their way into the braids that ran down his back, and had elegant princely like features with a thin nose and high cheekbones. He gazed down at them with gray eyes, for he was easily over six foot, his lips pulled into a tight pink line, only pausing to glance at the door he had come through. The door that had appeared from the caldron stood like a large golden archway created from the bubbles of the mix, mist flowing in from the seams of its tightly shut doors.

It had taken a translation spell, and much coaxing, for him to lower his weapon, and even more for him to calm enough to listen to Hermione and converse with her. The cloths he wore, a green tunic with silvery white cape with hood, and brown leggings spoke that he traveled light - he had informed them once being calmed that he had been traveling with friends though he didn't say where. He had sheathed his daggers and was watching them wearily as they tried to explain to him that he had been pulled into their world, temporarily, to grant access into his own world for their friend.

The two had finally, with much gesturing and soft voices, convinced the tall blond to seat himself down in an armchair, though that hadn't help him relax any as he tensely surveyed the home in wonder. Fleur's home was like many wizarding homes, with moving talking pictures, and other enchanted objects. Hermione knew from years of research the place he came from held magic also, much like the wizarding world, but closer to the old magic that had been around during the time of Merlin or the Hogwarts founders.

"My name is Hermione Weasly," she said after they had explained as in depth as possible that they were trying to gain access for Harry," I apologize to have startled you. I was casting a very old spell, you see, and hadn't meant to actually pull you here."

The blond man raised a delicate eyebrow before nodding and then responding in a smooth voice, the spell doing well to translate for him," I accept your apology," though the response seemed a bit tense, as if he were only trying to be polite. He stood again, seeming not comfortable where he had perched himself at the edge of the armchair," I am Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen," he eyed the two elderly women," I have never heard of any other Ishtari other than five, and they are all men."

Fleur warbled from her chair where she hadn't moved at the table, her unseeing gaze trained in Legolas's direction," In this world there are many witches and wizard," she gasped for some air before continuing," I know it may be hard to believe. But there was a reason you were brought here."

Legolas nodded slowly, his face stoic as it had been since he had seated himself," yes you said you believed I may somehow grant access for this man to my world. Though I do not understand why it is he must leave."

Hermione frowned looking out the small window that gave the only natural light into the dusty room, ever since becoming widowed and then later disabled Fleur had neglected to keep up with the cleaning, and walked to the table. The room only held the cauldron, table, chairs, and sofa most everything else having been sold off years ago when Fleur had wished to rid all memory of her late husband. Hermione sat gently on a chair, feeling much too warn," Harry. I went to school with Harry. Grew up with him. He is a great man; loyal, courageous, the most good of heart person I have ever met," she gazed at Legolas hoping he saw the depth of her words," He had to go through so much, too much for any child and I could never do anything to stop any of it. Now I am one of the few people left from when we were younger. I am going to die," her voice dropped a slight fear giving a catch in her throat," but Harry hasn't aged a day over 17. "

Legolas had the heart to look intrigued, raising his brows slightly and relaxing somewhat.

"And that is why we need him to go," she continued swallowing," I am going to die. I am going to leave him. He will be alone. From what we have read there are people from where you come from that live very long lives. Hundreds, thousands of year even. And though we are unable to bring back those he has lost, we wish for him to stop feeling the loss, and be with those the same as himself."

She shivered, and at seeing her unable to continue Legolas frowned," So you called upon me, to decide if this man I do not know should have right to live with my people?"He pushed away at the tug in his heart as he thought of the undying man.

Hermione smiled as gently as she could, but felt a tug at her magic, as if something were trying to pull Legolas away so she rushed," I apologize that I may seem abrupt, but we haven't much time I believe. I fear that you will be returning soon," she glanced to the door which seemed to pulse and Legolas followed her gaze," All those he has ever loved, all that he has ever known, ages before his eyes and dies. I just need the word of a pure hearted being from your world to grant him access, and the spell pulled you through so you must be pure of heart."

Legolas's frown deepened and he shook his head. Hermione felt another tug she began to sweat nervously, the door from the cauldron hadn't vanished but it was now beginning to glow. Fluer cleared her throat.

The translation spell brought a term to her that seemed appropriate and would bring attention to the blond," He is fading. I see it every day now, more and more as time goes on. I do not know what will become of him if he does not find others like himself."

Legolas surveyed the small old woman as she pleaded with him. This place was intriguing, and after living for thousands of years such a mystery was welcomed, though he didn't show his interest to the woman. Legolas always had the thirst for adventure, which was why he probably marched around Middle Earth with Gimli so often. Though, he reminded himself, why he and his friends had been traveling across the lands was not such a merry exertion now.

"And how do I know that this 'Harry'," the blond paused, something in his eyes came before leaving him the same calm blond he had been before," is not of the evils that are now beginning to haunt our lands? How do I know that you are truly not servants of the one that calls himself the new dark lord of Middle Earth?"

She frowned, the thought of sending Harry to a world where there was a dark lord not playing well with her. Harry had seen his share of darkness in his time, and she didn't feel that anymore would do him well. Shaking her head she mentally told herself she only had this one choice, and one opportunity.

"You must trust me," she looked to his eyes pleading," I have no proof. But I have one thing," she gestured with her wand and a locket flew over that she gave to Legolas and he took it gently. The door from the cauldron burst open and began to pull him in.

"Please," she shouted as he looked back to her being pulled into the door," Just look in the locket. Tell yourself he does not deserve to be around people such as himself! If you think it right, just say that you will let him pass to your world! Please-" And the door closed before she could continue.

Hermione put an arm around her middle while she covered her mouth with her free hand. She had been so worked up that she felt she hadn't done well explaining everything. Where had that level headed witch gone in her old age, she wondered.

"Well," sighed Fleur," That went as well as we could have hoped. Though I do find it strange that he was summoned here- it was supposed to just allow us to communicate with him. Perhaps the poor translation?"

After a few moments Hermione collapsed into the chair next to where Fleur had wheeled herself.

"I used his hair," she covered her eyes.

"What was that darling?" Fleur asked.

Hermione looked to where the elderly woman wheezed and frowned," I used a lock of Harry's hair to call to someone on middle earth. Legolas was pulled here for a reason, and I didn't even think to tell him."

Fleur's eyes widened even though unseeing and she gripped the arms to her wheelchair," Hermione darling... You don't mean to tell me?"

"Yes," she cut off the French woman," I already read about the spell, and I know about using parts of another to open the door. But I needed to be sure, Fleur. This was our only chance."

The elderly nodded. They were silent for a while, Hermione gathering herself up and wiping up her face hoping that Legolas would give Harry permission into his world, before Fleur cackled.

"Was he a hottie? I always imagined Harry to be a pillow biter," she cackled and Hermione shook her head at the woman's antics. She was sure had it not been for magic, the woman would have completely lost it by now.

"Yes he was quite the looker," She looked to where the door had all but denigrated into a few piles of popping silver bubbles and sighed," Hopefully he sees something that will let Harry come to him. If they really are soul mates, I am sure that seeing a picture of Harry will help."

**_Pagepagepagepagepagepagepage_**

In middle earth Legolas snapped awake, sitting upright eyes darting around him. He was in the tree he had dozed off in, the old alder having given him a place to rest. It was still night and the air had a slight chill to it, the winter cold presenting itself in the chilly moist air.

Looking down he saw two of his travel companions sleeping by the dying fire. Merry and Pippin were inseparable and slept close together even now. Looking away from them he spied Gimli watching him curiously having paused in adding a log to the dwindling flames, his close friend having knowing him all too well to not know when something was wrong.

He nodded to the other, and the dwarf returned to his task, eyes never staying in one place too long for fear of their enemy ambushing them.

Sighing silently, Legolas allowed himself to relax to wonder about the peculiar dream and almost jumped when he felt a small chain tangled in his fingers tug as the locket the woman had given to him dropped from his palm.

His eyes widened as he saw the golden locket hanging delicately from the chain. He gripped the chain tightly as he brought it closer to his face. It was gold, in a strange shape, with beautiful engravings of flowers around the edges. There was some type of engraved message in the center, but he didn't recognize the strange scrawl.

This was proof that what had happened had not been a dream, he thought. His heart hammered at the rush of adrenalin. It had been an unexplainable experience, to say the least, and it left him breathless at the idea of worlds beyond his own. He had been on middle earth for nearly 3,000 years and its wonders never ceased to intrigue him. But, despite the fact they were grand and magnificent, they had been the same over the course of his life for the most part. He would go perhaps fifty years without visiting a place, and upon returning would be greeted by it looking much the same it had before. Perhaps some greenery that had grown or been removed, a new settlement added on. But it wasn't anything nearly as different as what he experienced. It was as if all the objects in that world, or from the room he had seen, been touched by magic.

He fingered the locket, thumb running into the clasp on the side. Gazing down he bit his lip, brows knitted thinking. Should he open it? He had sensed no evil from the two elderly women, though it was a stretch to try and pull someone into another world, even by dream. He remembered the woman, Hermione, had apologized saying she didn't know it would pull him into their world-she had assumed they would be able to communicate with him as he stayed in his own world. Though secretly he didn't mind that much now that he had time to calm himself from his adventure.

What was in the locket? She had only spoke of a 'Harry' -what odd names these people carried- and he could only assume it held a picture of the boy. He fiddled with the clasp, not unlatching it while a smile tugged at the edge of his lips. What a sight the boy must be, for his parents to name him so! An image of a man covered head to toe in thick brown waves of hair came to mind and he held back a snicker.

"And just who are you Harry," the name sounded odd on his tongue but it caused a shiver to run through his body. There was something about this being, he felt drawn him that he hadn't even seen his face. His brow creased slightly. It was an unfamiliar feeling and it made him uneasy.

Grasping the locket, he put the golden chain around his neck and hid it under his tunic's neckline. He shouldn't be worrying about this sort of thing on the road, he admonished, much less not without counsel from someone such as Gandalf or Galadriel. They were currently on their way to Gondor for a counsel on the new threat that had begun to make itself present only four years after the fall of Sauron. Legolas along with many other elves such as Galadriel, Elrond, and his father had stayed to assist the uniting of the kingdoms, and rebuilding of the world. So it was them, along with Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, Pippin and Merry that were meeting in Gondor to consult with the king and queen as to what to do.

He frowned swiftly jumping down from his tree before approaching Gimli.

"Rest, Gimli. I shall take watch," he gave a brief smile to his friend before looking out to the thick blackness that curtained them. The moon wasn't in the sky to light the world around, so it was just the stars and fire that were their light and it left much to be left hidden in darkness even with his elven eyes.

The dwarf looked up to him from the corner of his eye before nodding," I would think it was because you were having a nightmare. Never have I known you to sleep so restlessly."

He fought the urge to fiddle with the locket and looked away.

"I am troubled," he said finally, it not being a lie," but I was only having a strange dream nothing to worry about."

Gimli was silent for a moment before responding," It has not been long since the final battle. I know that four years is not long to a dwarf, but to an elf." He raised his brow to his and shook his head," lad you know we are here for you if you need to talk. I know you pointy eared bastards try to act as if the world does not effect you, and that you are detached from emotion, but I know otherwise."

"oh you do," Legolas allowed his lips to upturn into a light smirk as the dwarf slapped his leg.

"ai, I do," he exclaimed," you cannot hide such things from me! I would even dare to call you affectionate."

That made Legolas smile fully and he nodded," I believe you are correct Gimli. We elves are very in tune with our emotions and of the feelings of others," and at the triumphant look on the others face he continued," but that allows us to understand and control them more. Some elves can go hundreds of years without showing their emotions."

"Like that father of yers," Gimli snorted and Legolas allowed a light laugh to break from him," though you are quite unlike him."

"Yes well," he shifted a bit and looked to Gimli," some of us do like to embrace our emotions. But some of us do not wish to do so, after seeing so much death and so much pain."

Gimli stayed silent, never having been on great terms with the elder elf, and Legolas looked to the stars, "It is all right Gimli. My father shall sail west one day, and all his pain shall diminish."

The dwarf grunted and then said," well I am off to bed. "and the conversation was over.

Legolas sat looking off into the darkness pondering what had happened during his sleep. Fiddling with the locket he peered into the darkness. How could he allow someone he didn't know entry into a world that belonged to so many? It was not his right. But as he sat there, fiddling with the locket, he knew deep in his heart that this 'Harry' would be coming.

'I will speak to Galadriel and Gandalf about it. They should know best,' he thought as he looked up to the stars, thinking about the three days they had left on their trip.

**_ENDENDENDEND_**

"You saw 'what' exactly," the smooth voice asked, circling the cloaked one on the floor as they trembled in a pathetic heap sobbing.

"I-I," the woman, from the voice it sounded like, hiccuped before pulling her tattered cloak closer around herself," I saw a rift. A small one. But it – it was there. It called someone, I do not know who. There is a rift, its there, I can sense it," the woman rocked slightly repeating herself a few times breathlessly before continuing,"But they were able to go and return. I- I know not if it was them that opened the rift or someone else . . . " she trailed off shivering as the man quit circling to look at her sharply.

He inhaled with a hiss and was grabbing her in seconds, gripping painfully thin shoulders," Of course it was not someone of this world that opened the rift you silly woman!" he stroked a pale thin cheek with a long finger and threw her down," you know if it were possible to open a rift from this world I would have found a way. But if someone is creating rifts from one of the other worlds," he was mumbling to himself now lips set in a thin line as he paced ignoring the sobbing woman at his feet.

He stopped and looked out the window to the rising sun blue eyes shining, "Soon."

**_TrueENDTRUEENDTRUEENDlololol_**

Aurthor: Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo What do you think? It was brought to my attention that I probably should keep writing this as a post LOTR story, like the original, and after much writing I agree. I wrote this chapter 3 different ways; during the Hobbit, PreLOTR, and this one. This one felt best out of the three. If anyone is interested I do have 2 other HP/LOTR crossovers, 1 is pre hobbit and one is pre LOTR. You may enjoy them also =)

**WARNING**! Lol. Just to warn you, I am an avid gardener. In Alaska, we have very short summers. Being in Fairbanks they are usually very beautiful and sunny. As such, I will not be posting too frequently, but still will be writing-were the land of the midnight sun so I sleep little =P. Veggies go in the ground end of May/beginning of June and depending on weather normally are harvested and done by August/September. Though last year, it didn't snow till Halloween- almost breaking a 75 year record! Lol.

But, yeah, I'm just saying, expect slow updates so I can get my few months of sun. Living in a state where, during the winter the shortest days have less than 4 hours of sun, I have to frolic or I will be all depressed lol.

BUT reviews are always very good fuel for my writing flame, and I may be urged to write more if I keep getting them. Lololol ok I know that is evil blackmail of me. But I do so love reviews.

Thank you to everyone who has read this, and continues to. And I hope you continue to enjoy this story.


End file.
